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 Sep 2015 Emma
RH 78
Why is there a little boy lying on the beach?
Washed up.
Lifeless.
All for a new life too far to reach?

Why is there a little boy lying on the beach?
Terrorists
Heartless.
What happened to the human rights we all preach?

Why is there a little boy lying on the beach?
Traffickers.
Gangs.
Displacing people no home and no speech.

Why is there a little boy lying on the beach?
A son.
No future.
We hang our heads and weep!
Broken hearted and deeply affected by pictures I saw in the news depicting the lifeless body of a little boy no older than three who was photographed washed up on the shore line of Turkey. The result of further illegal human smuggling, people trafficking promising to get families to Europe on a false promise. All too often, people are put into small boats unable to sustain the weight of all the people put upon it and not fit for purpose. This is yet another shocking event in the wake of atrocities taking place in North Africa where the displacement of millions of innocent people continues. Governments are too busy counting the pennies and quarrelling amongst themselves in addition to wasting precious time as gangs and smugglers take advantage of the situation by sending people to their death profiting from the desperation of families searching for a place to call home. When will this end? RIP to the little boy, his brother and mother who all perished.
 Jun 2015 Emma
lolita
untitled
 Jun 2015 Emma
lolita
I broke myself trying to fix you
 Jun 2015 Emma
Breanna Stockham
How much weight can you carry
Before you collapse
Or sink to the bottom
Or crumble down fast?

It’s raining boulders
And you’re catching them all
With worries heavier than stone
It won’t take much to fall

You’re at your breaking point
But don’t let yourself break
See it as a turning point
And refuse to hold the weight

Just let it go
Put it down
Watch it fall
Pour it out

Do what you can
And then worry no more
Catch what you can
Let the rest hit the floor

Find your limit
And end it there
Drop your pile of boulders
You deserve the fresh air
you make me so unbelievably happy
that flowers have started growing everywhere;
in the vase you left on my windowsill,
in the pillowcase you used last time you slept here,
and in my body, my heart, my lungs.
the air is cleaner, the sky clearer,
i can breathe again.
every so often, i cut a daisy
from around my throat and put it in my hair.
i use them as a reminder
of what you mean to me.
the oxygen in my lungs mixing
with the soil and stems and leaves and petals.
i use them to make me feel alive.
 Jun 2015 Emma
andrea
Superfluous
 Jun 2015 Emma
andrea
You make me feel at times
like a putrid scent that lingers
or the fistful of unwanted dimes
jangled in between your linty fingers

But I guess you keep me in your pocket anyway
June 8th
 Feb 2015 Emma
Reemoatpeace
A roller coaster it seems,  challenging our limits by all means.
A new chapter, banter, laughter and capture.
Ignite my heart, release the warmth and start.
Forgetting the scars, remembering the twinkling stars.
Raise above the waves albeit trust flushed away.
The storm is over...let's find our rainbow and be sober.
I think I'm ready...
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